


Guys My Age

by impracticallyperfect (whynotfour)



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, ofc is legal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotfour/pseuds/impracticallyperfect
Summary: She’s into older guys and FP is one of them.





	Guys My Age

Their relationship escalates in a dimly lit bar, smoke and liquor clinging to their tongues as FP’s hands dance over her body. She’s wearing a skirt so short that he can make out the lace cupping her - a shade of red almost as appealing as the love bite she leaves on his Adam’s apple. His fingers fight with the hem and sneak their way over her cheeks, kneading his hands across the flesh and letting his palm fall heavy against her. She moans into his chest, body tensing as she struggles to speak and when she does it’s a cry of “please FP”. It’s a sin that hangs in the air, his eyes hardening as he tries to pull back.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, kid. I shouldn’t be doing this,” the serpent king states, falling back on his heels even as she latches herself onto the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not a kid, FP!” she pleads sounding even younger in her innocence. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Sweetheart there are a lot of guys you should get through before you get to me,” he tries to walk away but she’s there matching him step for step, not letting him turn as they fight beneath the neon lights of the Whyte Worm. “But I’m not doing that to Jug.”

“Why waste time with the others? They don’t make me feel like this,” she’s exaggerating her chest now, doesn’t need to when her breasts are painted by a sheen of sweat that makes his mouth water but does anyway. “He doesn’t get my underwear nearly as wet.”

She takes his hand and places it against the fabric, clumsily hooks a thigh around his waist to allow closer access and then slowly starts to rub his fingers against herself. “You feel that FP? That heat? That’s for you not Jughead. Tell me you don’t want it. To stretch me out inch by inch - to fill me out.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I know the stakes, FP. I know what I’m getting into.”

He holds her in his eyes, fingers fighting to still her wrist before bringing them up to his own lips - sucking them in slowly to savour the residue of her taste.

“I’ve known you since you were a kid,” he states like it’ll put her off, pretending not to see the way her legs tremble with desire. “I couldn’t ruin you like that - distruct something so beautiful.”

“I’m old enough to make my own decisions and I want you. Tell me that you haven’t imagined the way I’d feel wrapped around you, Mr Jones. My pretty little mouth on you not a straw at Pops.”

He couldn’t deny she was right - the teasing glances that had him adjusting those damn white slacks out in the back room of the diner; the flash of her tongue against red lips every time his son looked away; the skimpy underwear left in the shower at his trailer. FP had thought at first that it was in his imagination - the way she would flirt with him - he was just too vain, she was crazy about his kid. 

But the way she was acting now proved that wasn’t the case - the wet underwear glistening in the bar light proved that wasn’t the case. 

“I want you to fuck me, FP,” she stated boldly, making the most of his silence. “Show me how a real man treats a girl. I don’t want to be a south side slut anymore - I want to be the queen.”


End file.
